Memories from the past

Childhood was like a stagnant pond. The seasons changed around it, but for the most part it was left forever trapped in a never changing cycle.

I don't remember much of my earlier years, I only have chucks of memories. The usual things, watching my cat have kittens, rolling off the couch and cutting my hear open, finding a toad in the sandbox... Just moments that stick out. I have racked my brain trying to remember, trying to find the moment that made me hate myself. That maybe in the finding it, I could undue its influence over me now. But in all my searching through my memories, I have come to the thought that maybe I was simply born this way.

I was a quite child, I liked privacy, order, quite... All the opposite qualities of my house. I have 10 siblings, my mom rarely cleaned, and the house was never quite. In my house you had to shout to be heard, you had to fight for food, eat all you could because it wouldn't be there in the morning, and I loathed the filthiness of the house. Dishes would sit undone for days, you couldn't see the floors in the bedrooms, the toilets would forever be brown from going so long without being cleaned. The food consisted of 5 pound blocks of cheap cheddar cheese, tortillas, milk, eggs and macaroni. My favorite lunch was to melt a big hunk of cheese and dip the tortilla in the quarter inch of grease that floated on the top. And to top it all off, we were home-schooled, which really meant we just stayed home in our pj's all day with unbrushed hair.

But it wasn't always that way. I don't ever remember my mother being happy per say, but I have glimpses from when I was very young and my parents didn't fight, but that ended when I was 5.

I've thought very hard about my mother... I've tried to understand her, however, she is a walking contradiction. When I was 6 years old I had the habit of giving my toys away, and finally my mother asked me "why do you keep giving all your toys away?" I replied that I wanted such and such person to like me. She told me, "you don't have to buy friends Becca." However, I've spend my life watching as my mother gave and gave and gave to try and "be worthy" of friendship. She gave too much, and didn't require people to respect her, and every time she would have another failed relationship she would creep farther away from us. She never cuddled or hugged us, she lived in her own head. I don't know who my mother really is, but I know I'm like her.
I keep giving away my toys hoping it will make me worthy of friendship... But in the end it doesn't matter to anyone, and I've found myself creeping slowly away from everyone.